


the engineer who fled

by blueskieswastaken



Category: Splatoon
Genre: (and marina is a child), Autistic Marina, Brainwashing, Growing Up, Lore-heavy, Not canon-compliant, Running Away, because THAT is a tag, escaping, i am not some other people, i want more tags., if i might reference pearlina at some point do i tag it pearlina?, marina’s still autistic, some other people might make the brainwashing kinky, stories and legends, this brainwashing is scary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24316501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskieswastaken/pseuds/blueskieswastaken
Summary: Nobody knows who invented the Flooders. Her name was removed from the blueprints, and nobody knows who she was. All they know about her is that she got out.It’s a fake story. Everyone knows you’re stuck here until you die. That’s just how the Octarian forces are.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	1. prologue

The engineers whisper, their work unhalting, as the machines that pound around them drone on and on for all hours of the day. They hiss rumors and legends and tall tales about towering hills that serve as the boundaries between the Surface and the Domes, gossiping and purring about people who tried to get out and failed.  
  
However, there is one story that is strictly forbidden from being told during work hours, one story of thousands, if not millions, about the only one to succeed.

Nothing is known about her- not her appearance, nor her name, not even her date of birth or age. Her designation number has been deleted from the records, all evidence of her existence brushed off under rugs, to hide the fact that she was ever born at all. Every time the story is told, she’s given a different name... Juno, Mira, Rayna.

Some believe she doesn’t even exist. They think she’s a cautionary tale, because the Octarian government doesn’t want anyone to go.  
To hear this tale, you must first find someone who knows it, by softly tapping out a song. The song’s name is unknown, but the first line has been written down and practiced for years. When they hear you, they’ll come find you and invite you to dinner after hours, where they’ll bring you to their barracks and make you promise not to say anything.

When you do, they will begin to tell you the story of the only one to leave the Domes.

It’s up to you whether or not you want to dismiss it as a fairy tale or take it to heart, but they warn you against following in her footsteps, because the military won’t be so forgiving when they find you. She got out with pure luck. You, on the other hand, are just another octoling, another cog in the great machine of life.

  
 _You_ won’t get away.


	2. beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she was an engineer, much like us. she knew so much more. we put our trust in her. she helped us understand, told us there were better ways to do everything.

The day of her twelfth birthday, Marina wakes and gazes out the window, at the shining, silvery moonlight outside. She knows it isn’t real. She’s been told that the inklings, the squids and the cuttlefish on the surface, were too selfish, tried to wipe out the Octarians over a hundred years ago, and forced them all down.  
A chill electrifies her spine at the thought, and as she stands, her gentle seafoam eyes glitter sleepily in the dim light. She presses her palms together and suppresses a yawn. She has to be up early today, it’s her new routine.

So, with a small stretch, Marina huffs and gets changed, listening to her boots thudding on the ground as she makes her way to the work bay in the seemingly endless night.  
There are other octolings trailing along the maze-like streets near her. She can hear them, but she can’t see them. They’re whispering, chatting among themselves about......?

Marina’s ears can’t pick up the words. Only the sounds. She knows they’re speaking- but of what? She licks her lips and hums, so very softly, the melody of the song she believes she’s heard before. She can’t quite place it, but it brings a smile to her face every time. 

It’s a long walk, her only company being the hissing and murmuring of her fellow engineers as they fall into file beside her. Now she can hear them: they’re humming about her. How small she is. How young. She’s too young, one growls to his friend, and his friend growls back that it’s not their job to babysit a twelve year old. Marina will care for herself as long as they are around.

Marina’s mind whispers to her. She wonders how so much could happen in her first twelve years. She reminds herself that she was a “prodigy,” whatever that meant, and that she was apparently put here early. So she has that going for her, she guesses. 

Another engineer trots up to get a better look at the young octoling, gently grasping her hand and pressing her thumb into Marina’s small palm. Marina, figuring this is what she wants, wraps her fingers around her new friend’s thumb, getting a small smile in response. 

Her companion lifts Marina into her arms, letting the younger girl tightly grip her shirt and admire the moonlit dome. There wasn’t much to admire, but Marina was curious about how her ancestors got here. How did they decide that this is how it works? Or that Marina herself was “gifted”? As far as she knew, she just really loved engineering and naturally got better as she messed with random weapons she found in her house. She was never sure what happened to them, or what they were. 

She doesn’t get time to think about it: she’s being placed on the ground and given tools, and the others are explaining what they’re working on. Something called the Octowhirl. The name makes Marina smile. She feels it’s deserved, that little smile. And the name. She’s not sure where the name comes in. But surely, surely one of the others would let her know. 

For now, the general strutting into the dome’s entrance stands tall and gives orders, which her companions guide her in doing. She’s told to hold tools, or to tug on an especially loose bolt, or to hammer in some metal plates to shape them. Marina enjoys all the little jobs her friends give her. She’s too small to mess with the sharp, pointed spikes on the gigantic machine- they’d rip her apart within seconds if she was close enough to them. She couldn’t swim well enough to escape the inside either- she’d sink into the ink and drown, because she’s too young to use her octopus form. 

The others continue speaking, working under the watchful eye of that general whose name Marina didn’t know. Nobody knew her name, as far as she was aware, so for now she is simply “the general” in the child’s mind, and everyone listens to her.

Including tiny little Marina.   
She takes a small breath, and takes in her surroundings- how huge it all is, how monumental. It’s something she’s never experienced, and it gives her chills. 

She enjoys her new work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for being really slow with this i got very very sidetracked.


	3. dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we admired her. she had goals, and she knew how to meet them. and she admired us, because we were so wise. we learned from her and she learned from us.

She was twelve-and-a-half when she first realized that general probably wasn’t thinking for herself. It was a slow, quiet day of work, and it so happened that rumors of rebellions starting in this very Dome had landed the engineers with a small battalion of soldiers to watch over them. Carefully. 

The soldiers, all wielding octoshots aside from a single charger, watched Marina and her companions with unmoving eyes and perfectly accurate aims.

On the general’s command, a single word that seemed not her own, they all readied their weapons, and all the engineers’ eyes were drawn to the charger. His sights, ever accurate, were pointed straight at one of the best engineer’s hearts. Marina couldn’t believe what she was seeing- was one of her best friends being accused of rebellion? That couldn’t be right. Nobody moved. Hardly anyone dared speak. 

Marina occasionally tried speaking to the soldiers... but they remained deathly silent. Stared ahead, and only ahead, no matter what, and never moved an inch, except for the charger. He followed Marina’s friend around the perimeter of the large stage on which this great weapon was constructed, his eyes obscured by the dense silver goggles attached to his face. 

The little octoling never moved too far, never said a word, just worked and worked while her friends gave the soldiers subtle glares and scowls. They were all quiet, until one of the younger engineers bared her beak and gave a low, reedy hiss at the general. She immediately had every octoshot pointed at her within a second, and even the charger had adjusted his aim to point straight at her chest.

Everything stops. Marina’s eyes, filled with nothing but fear, are locked on the other girl, whose angry hiss was cut short, yet her enraged look remains. Nobody says a thing. Nobody moves. 

Eventually, the octoshots lower, the soldiers’ movements slow and almost robotic. The charger lingers, for a few more seconds, before his aim returns true to his first target. Her name, Marina recalls, is Zephyr. Her name is fitting, as she’s always as gentle as her namesake... But rebellion? She didn’t quite believe it until Zephyr gave Marina a very subtle grin and nodded towards the entrance of the dome so that her charger-wielding guard didn’t see her. 

Marina trusts Zephyr. She’s Marina’s best friend... so if Zephyr whispers that she’d like to run into Marina’s ear once work ends, Marina is inclined to listen to her.   
She tells Marina stories of the surface, says that maybe, just maybe, Octavio is lying about how cruel the people up there are. 

And Marina loves that thought. She’s always wondered what the surface was like. Maybe she’ll be able to make friends up there, or find a family...   
Marina remembers the look her mother gave her when she was pulled away from her. She remembers the despair, the fear, that filled her mother’s deep purple eyes, the way she fought and screamed and called her name.

Maybe one day she can find her mother again. The memories are dim (she was only six!) but she remembers. She remembers her mother’s pale skin, her eyes, how she used to hold Marina close and protect her. 

Marina makes a promise to find her mother again, and she won’t break it. She’ll remember it, and she’ll keep it, and finding her mother will be the first thing she does on the surface.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we protected her, and in return, she gave us the motivation to keep us going. she was the bravest girl we knew at the time.

She was thirteen when the engineers finished the great weapon and it was time to test it. Zephyr lifted her up and carried her off the stage like an old sack of tools, which Marina didn’t mind at all as she slowly kicked her feet. Zephyr didn’t let her slip, didn’t drop her, and (most importantly) kept her close.

Marina’s never seen what a blue-ringed octoling could do, until today. Her friend held her up, letting her watch the scene below, her eyes glimmering with tentative curiosity. Deep rumbles echoed from the area, the sound of the engineer’s boots thudding against metal as he approached the silent machine before him, the faint straining of gears that wanted to move.

He took a deep breath, adjusted his ink tank, and glanced behind, almost like he was considering giving up. Not trying at all. Of course, he knew what was going to have to happen, and he knew there was no getting out of it, so the neon blue rings that covered his body lit up as he briefly bared his beak at the lifeless clam. 

And then, slowly, a power source was lowered towards it. A false zapfish, one with a battery pack, just barely enough to power the great weapon. Marina watched the boy’s rings flash once, twice, and it was almost mesmerizing, but it had no effect. The Octowhirl was, effectively, dead. 

It began to spin after it yanked the false zapfish into its depths. It spun fast enough to thrust out spikes from across its body, and the boy just barely stifled a scream, tightly gripping his weapon of choice- a simple shooter. He knows what those spikes can do to him.

Marina does not.

Its spinning brings it to the edge of the stage, where it suddenly kicks up and stands on its bottom-most spike, perfectly balanced. The boy below gives an alarmed shout, almost dropping his weapon when it starts to move, spreading ink as it slowly whirled around the perimeter.  
It waited, staring that boy in the eye, until it was directly in front of him. 

Marina felt Zephyr’s grip on her tighten, and her brows furrowed in response.   
Was something wrong? An error in the code? 

The machine stops staring down at the boy and drops to its side, its spinning ramping up again and making it slam onto the ground one, two, three times before it charges directly at him and—

Marina shuts her eyes, feels Zephyr turn and jog away, but she still hears the commotion- the shouting, the clamoring, the wails from below that oddly sounded choked before suddenly cutting out. When she realizes it’s time to run, she pulls her hand down to get a glimpse of the stage.

She saw a small flash of dark blue blood mixed with the magenta ink, and then she and Zephyr were out of the dome. Marina knew her friend was sprinting back toward the barracks once she got a good hold on her, tightly gripping her arm and making sure she didn’t trip.  
“What happened? I couldn’t look-“  
“We found out it works.” 

And Zephyr said nothing more as she entered the barracks with a solemn expression, her grip on Marina’s arm faltering as she watched the young girl lay in her hammock and stood beside her, gently rocking her.  
Marina took a look across the room, where the boy’s photo hung on the wall above a different sleeping space, and then up at Zephyr.

“I didn’t know him. I kind of wish I did.” 

The younger octoling hums, curling up in her spot and rubbing her hands together.   
“I guess that’s that, then.”

Zephyr nods, kneeling on the floor.  
“We’ll be escaping soon. Whenever we have the chance... I’m thinking about a route we could take, but we have to be careful. If they see us, we’re dead meat.” 

Marina nods back, looking around.  
“Soon... Do you think the real sky is as beautiful as everyone says it is?”

“Of course.”


End file.
